Auto Response: to my close friend.
I don't really have time to respond to everyone who leaves me a comment that says, "Hey Mike! how have you been? What have you been up to?" Are you dead? If I were to respond to everyone, I wouldn't be up to anything.
So here is my auto Response to you, my good friend:
Recently I sold my soul to the Devil and have been working as a temp for different property management companies. I make copies and live in a file room. i forget about the pain by drinking lots of black coffee and striving towards my material success goals of owning a porshe and a trophy wife.
but on the weekends i let loose. as soon as i leave the office i rip off my white shirt, burn my tie and paint naked until till the wee hours of the night.
i wake up next to a bottle of absinthe and don't know why i am I covered in oil and surrounded by paintings of little, old chinese men doing calisthenics.
Monday morning I enter the office again in my slightly faded, blood stained, white shirt and tie. i tell no one of my experience and sit quietly in my cubicle as if it never happened. I occasionaly make small talk with folks like Barry the Accountant and ask how his kids are. The week is a blur until friday comes and without a word i walk down that same dark path, pulled toward it like it is some strange, slient addiction.
besides that, not much you know, just chillin'. how bout you? miss ya
Mike
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